Closing Time
by Andorian Ice Princess-AIP
Summary: Casey gets an unexpected call late Friday night from a favorite bar regarding one of his guys but when he goes to pick him up, it's not exactly the guy he's expecting.


**Title: Closing Time**

**Summary:** Casey gets an unexpected call late Friday night from a favorite bar regarding one of his guys but when he goes to pick him up, it's not exactly the guy he's expecting.

**Disclaimer: **Chicago Fire and its characters are the property of Dick Wolfe, NBC and….well sadly not me lol

**A/N:** okay I am still working my way up to a multi-chap fic but had this idea in mind for a bit now and just had to indulge the muse (she's very demanding lol and apparently loving this show!) so I let her (her name is Alice btw) run with this and hope you all like it.

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_'Okay see you Monday,' _Hallie had told him, Matt Casey giving his fiancé a last kiss and small wave before watching her pull away from his place that was already mostly cleaned out and ready to be painted. He heads back inside wanting nothing more than to just rest in front of the TV and bring the long, tiring week to a muchly needed close.

He grabs a bottle of beer from the fridge and heads into the small backroom; the first few rooms empty and the rest of the small, modest house to follow suit; the painters coming early the next morning. Offering the small TV a rather sad laugh, Casey almost has to squint to see who's actually playing football on the screen before him.

"Miss the big screen," he comments to himself as he takes a swig of his beer and downs a second slice of warm pizza. His mind replays the tiring week, the fact that they nearly lost one of their own and whether or not they really wanted to get a Dalmatian and if they could add it to Mills 'candidate' duties.

Casey's lips offer a small chuckle as he recalls a rather lame conversation about having a real goat…then it was a lamb…someone even said a Cobra and then a pet rat.

"Maybe a cat…" Casey muses as he settles into the only chair that was left uncovered; his body not fighting the oncoming fatigue. "Nah…a Dalmatian…" he whispers before the remote slips from his hand onto his lap and his eyelashes come to rest on his cheeks, his lips slightly parting as his head softly lolls to one side and he edges closer into darkness.

But about mid-night the phone rings, instantly shattering the somewhat quiet around him, forcing his eyes to open abruptly and the remote to clatter to the floor.

"Oh what the…hell…" he mutters as he rubs his face and then looks at the clock on the TV that was now on the menu channel. "Y-yes…hello," Casey manages as his hand scrambles for the remote flipping it off so he can hear the soft voice over the somewhat loud music on the other end of the line. "Who is this?"

_"This is Kayla down at Monroe's…one of your guys here has had one too many. I have his phone but he's just not…he left his wallet at home and…sorry this was the number on his phone and can you come get him?"_

"Sure what's his…name," Casey huffs as the line goes dead before he can collect all the facts. "Great…I'll just look for…whoever," he groans as he slowly pushes himself out of the chair that his body had melded into for the past few hours; hoping it would be a short trip and he could just drop…whoever…where they belonged and then come home and sleep.

"Painters…" he reminds himself audibly when he ponders for a few seconds actually being able to sleep in the following morning after this late night outing. The brisk walk in the cool night air to his truck actually wakes him up and by the time he gets to the very busy club, he's more alert than he'd like and wonders now if he'll have trouble falling back asleep as fast as he did earlier.

"Got a call from Kayla to pick up…a friend," Casey tells the bouncer who nods at the name of the night hostess and allows him to pass without waiting in the modest line still outside. Offering a small frown at the booming from the music greeting him as he enters, Casey slowly meanders through the packed crowd toward the bar, his eyes scanning the area to see which of his guess was drunk and wondering if his jackass actions would regrettably make the front page of the Tribune.

"Kayla?"

"Over there honey. Anything I can get for you?" The female barkeep smiles at the handsome Lieutenant.

"Ah no thanks," he replies with a small smile as he heads for the woman that called him. But as he nears the woman with her back to him and looks past to see who's in the booth that she's arguing with he literally stops in his tracks.

"This…is the guy?" Casey asks with a shake of his head.

"Matthew!" A booming laugh escapes Kelly Severide's lips.

"My number was first?"

"I looked for work and yeah…he says he's not married and his roommate is out of town and his apartment is being fumigated."

"Great," Casey groans as he leans in a bit closer. "How much has he had?" He inquires, pulling away with a small curse.

"Too much to practically walk out," Kayla sighs.

"What do I owe you?"

"Where's his Bill?"

"Yeah…he's had a lot."

"Here," Casey hands her his VISA and then looks at Severide with a less than amused expression. "Where did you intend to spend the night?"

"At the house…you know…you're a lot taller than…you look," Severide chuckles as Casey tries to sign the VISA slip. "There are two…I think two…yeah two girls over there…lets go…" he slurs as his arm drapes around Casey's neck, impeding his signing ability.

"You've had enough and it's time to go."

"You need…to loosen up _Saint_ _Matthew_," Severide grins as he tries to reach for the empty glass that had contained a few shots of very hard liquor. "Or are you really that much of a Saint?"

"Come on now…time to go."

"Where?"

"Home…and to bed and then you…"

"I like girls," Severide laughs as Casey just rolls his eyes and then casts a sympathetic glance at Kayla.

"Has he caused any trouble?"

"Not at all. Normally he's a great customer; just tonight…well he was different."

"Different how?"

"Going on about his arm and…I don't know he didn't say more than that. Just that it was his arm and he wanted to forget…everything. I mean he looks fine so I have no clue what he was on about, sorry."

"Okay thanks," Casey states before he turns back to see his fellow 51 Lieutenant heading for the dance floor, toward the two girls he had been eyeing earlier. "Great," he huffs as he heads for him, grabbing him by the arm and gently steering him away. "He's had one too many."

"You're not…my father…_Matthew,_" Severide growls as he tries to yank his arm free. "Are you ladies…what…really?"

"Yes really." Keeping his grasp on Severide to make sure that he doesn't fall down and cause an even bigger scene, Casey manages to get him outside the club and heading for his truck, the cool night air perking them both up a little.

"Okay thanks…I'm dood now…"

"Dood?"

"Good…whatever…I can take it from…here…"

"Come on. Where's Shay?"

"She's being…fumigated," Severide laughs as Casey purses his lips but says nothing, only pushes him into the truck and then hurries around to his side. "You know…she might like that."

"Where are you staying tonight?"

"Hotel?"

"Where is your wallet? At your place right? That is being fumigated? We can't go there…it's toxic."

"Her damn one night stand…brought fleas over…fleas…" Severide grumbles. "What kind of girl…has fleas?" The somewhat rhetorical question makes Casey lightly smirk but say nothing as he starts up his truck and then looks over at Severide who was now playing with the zipper on his jacket. "My arm…is screwed."

"What?"

"My arm…you know my arm?... this! This is screwed!" Severide waves his arm in the air, Casey of course oblivious to the much more serious problem that Severide was hiding from them all but Shay and a trusted doctor.

"Looks fine to me. Where to?"

"Hotel."

"You have no money."

"Then leave me here. I can take care of myself…used to that."

"I'm gonna regret this," Casey mumbles to himself as he slowly pulls away from the still active nightclub and heads for – home…his home. Not really having much spare cash on hand to send Severide to a hotel; needing it for the painters the next day and knowing he might cause more of a ruckus if he drops him back at the fire house to sleep in the small spare room in the back in his drunken state and figures he'll just sleep off his hangover and then get back to whatever arrangements he had made before he drank himself into a would-be coma.

"You love close to work," Severide slightly slurs, mispronouncing 'live with love'.

"Come on…I have a spare bed you can use until…"

"Can't I sleep with you and Hallie…does she like threesomes?" Severide chuckles as they stumble up the walk to Casey's small home.

"She's at her mother's for the weekend."

"You two fight?"

"No, it's being painted tomorrow."

"I can paint…oh no I can't…I have an arm…issue."

"Okay," Casey just shakes his head as they enter his very quiet home; his fingers reaching for the light and his brain praying that Severide doesn't fall down and hurt himself.

"Your place…it's so…clean. Wow you have no…furniture."

"It's being painted…here hold on," Casey says in a quiet tone as he starts to tug Severide's jacket off. But in doing so his phone and a small bottle of pills clatter to the floor, sending his hand in search of the items before they are stepped on. Just as Casey reaches for the small bottle, his eyes turn to the label to see what they are and if Severide had taken any with the copious amounts of alcohol.

"What are…who's are these?" Casey inquires, gazing at the blank label.

"None of your…damn…business…" Severide's angry voice booms as his hand dives for the bottle; Casey's fingers clamping down around them. "Give them…me…to me…now."

"Did you take any of these…"

"NOW!" He shouts as he glares at Casey's wondering expression in anger. "This…is none…of your…business!"

"It could be if you have a heart attack or something in the night because you mixed this…whatever this is with whatever you drank tonight. Did you take these?"

"Give them…back," Severide tries to lunge at Casey; Casey's frame turning to the right and slammed into the wall by Severide's frame. "Give them…" Severide tries again to get them, his swift actions only serving to make him dizzier and his body to start to take matters into his own hands and warn him it was shutting down.

"You've had…enough," Casey argues back as he tries to pull himself free. However, his body pivots just as Severide counters, Severide's fist mistakenly coming up and connecting with his face; Casey stepping back with a small curse; Severide's grasp now faltering as his body starts to reel with dizzy spells, from too much alcohol and too little food. Casey gently curses but holds his ground, glaring back at his counterpart and shaking his head.

"You can hardly stand…I have a spare…" Casey starts as he turns and heads down the hallway toward the small spare bedroom.

"I don't need…" is all Severide manages before he stumbles to his knees, causing Casey to turn back and lift him upright, holding on as they slowly make their way toward the small bedroom.

"Nice cologne."

"It's soap."

"Boring," Severide snickers as they enter the small room. "Speaking of boring…" he mumbles softly, his tone getting even lower. Casey manages to get Severide's frame onto the bed, lifting his legs just as Severide thankfully passes out.

"You're…a bad drunk," Casey huffs as he leans against the wall, his right fingers gingerly touching his face and muttering something almost incoherent as he flips off the light and heads down the hallway and up the stairs; looking at the clock and groaning at the fact that morning was coming all too soon.

XXXXXXXX

"What the…." Casey's warm blue eyes are quick to open early the following morning by way of a horn honk; his nose picking up the smell of strong coffee. "Who's…." he asks himself, quickly remembering his unwilling houseguest from the night before. Pushing himself from the warm nest of his rather lonely bed, he heads downstairs, rubbing his lightly stubble clad face and entering the kitchen in wonder.

He looks in surprise at the somewhat odd sight before him; Severide making breakfast? Coffee already made and a cup poured and waiting. For him?

"Morning," he turns and greets Casey with a small frown, instantly noticing some of his handiwork from the night before; his fuzzy brain trying to search back but correctly recalling there was no black eye on Casey's face when he left the fire house.

"Morning," Casey frowns in return.

"I did that?"

"You are not a good drunk."

"So I've been told."

"And yet you chose to…"

"I didn't expect…Kayla to call you…she called you right?"

"Apparently my number is first in your work contacts. And you left your wallet at home. You wanna tell me why last night even happened?"

"You ever just wanna go out and get…hammered…right…forget who I was talking to," Severide smirks; his expression however, turning into more of a grimace thanks to the pounding in his head. "Here," he hands Casey a cup of strong coffee. "Unless you have a better hangover cure."

"Put some Tabasco in there," Casey smirks as he heads for the fridge and pulls out a small carton of milk.

"Sadist," Severide retorts as he opens a cupboard.

"Uh…what are you looking for?" Casey asks in wonder.

"I figured since I was here I might as well…breakfast…figure I owe you one right?"

"You can just say it you know…"

"Fine I was an ass last night and I guess I gave you the black eye and…but you could have dropped me off at a shelter but didn't so I'm making breakfast and…" Severide pauses as he takes another sip of the strong black coffee. "I'm sorry."

"I don't know if you remember but I guess I kinda asked for it going on about your arm."

"My arm…" Severide states more than questions. "Yeah…about that…what did I um…say about it?"

"Asked me at one time to cut it off with a saw."

"Really. Right well…"

"Hey look you have an issue with…with whatever it's up to you. I just wanted to make sure you didn't mix whatever pills you had to drink and…the bottle had no name. Did you take them?"

"I didn't mix anything…those are…a…friends."

"It's none of my business what you do off the clock," Casey holds his hands up and offers a weak expression. "Just don't bring it to work or it will become my business."

"I know," Severide nods, not wanting to add of course that he had brought them to work…that and a few other things to help him cope with the pain. "If you couldn't do this…"

"Do what?"

"The job…if you couldn't do it, what else would you do?"

"Nothing. There's nothing else I want to do. Why?" Casey asks with a small shrug.

"No…it's just…it's the same for me. Since I was a kid…all I ever wanted to do was to fight fires…that's it. It's all I got."

"You struggling with an other job offer?"

"Nah…just…just whatever," he offers Casey a small smile. "So…" he starts only to be interrupted by a sharp knock. "You expecting company?"

"I am. The painters."

"Painters…right. Look I'll just finish up and…"

"Where are you staying this weekend?"

"Hey look I can stay…"

"Where? No where right? You can stay here."

"I think I already put you out enough," Severide tells him as Casey heads to open the back door to greet the painters. Not wanting to be more of a burden than he feels he already has been, he quickly puts away the items he had found and then works on finishing his strong coffee; his body begging him to just take it easy and take Casey up on his rare offer of hospitality.

"You can stay here…that small bedroom won't be getting painted until next weekend," Casey mentions as he returns; pulling open the fridge as Severide nears him. "I wasn't meaning to pry last night."

"I know and I'm sorry for the shiner," Severide huffs as he pushes Casey out of the way, making him look up in surprise. "Well I might as well make myself useful right. Go…direct your guys or something and I'll make breakfast."

"You remember how?"

"Hey Shay doesn't give in like Hallie does," he smirks. "She makes me cook; trust me she can be mean when she wants to be."

"Oh I don't doubt that," Casey's face finally relaxes into a smile as he heads back out of the kitchen in search of the painter calling his name.

"It's no big deal…" Severide mumbles as he flexes his arm and bites back a painful wince seconds before Casey returns. "Okay what do you want in your omelet?"

About ten minutes later, the two of them start into breakfast, the tension from the night before all but dissipated and the day ahead promising to be rather upbuilding for the two as they discuss Casey's painting project and work to build a new friendship that is usually overpowered by the normally strained working relationship.

"So why this color?" Severide asks in some amusement as he holds up the paint chip. "Oh lemme guess…."

"Not even close," Casey retorts.

"Okay…."

"Nope."

"You gonna tell me the real reason?"

"No," Casey replies with a cryptic smile.

"You know I'll get it out of you by the end of the weekend."

"Is that a challenge Lieutenant Severide?"

"One I intend to win Lieutenant Casey? And if I win?"

"You won't win," Casey states confidently.

"I will. And if I do?"

"You still owe me from last night," Casey pulls out the VISA slip and hands it to him.

"Ouch…really that much?"

"You're a bad _and_ expensive drunk."

"Damn," Severide comments with a shake of his head as one of the painter's pops his head into the kitchen with a question. "I'll still win the bet!" He calls out with a chuckle as Casey leaves the room, his eyes going back to the tab from the night before. "Damn," he curses again; knowing that Casey wasn't exactly made of money. He knows Casey could have merely dropped him off at a shelter and let him fend for himself last night and the rest this weekend, with no money and really no one else he could intrude on. "I guess I really do owe you one," he whispers in truth, his mind now focused on finding a way to return the favor.

"But I'm still gonna win the bet."

**THE END!**

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**A/N:** Okay hope you liked this and please do review before you go, your reviews keep us knowing if you want us to write more and how much more thanks everyone in advance!


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